Page 46 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins
“Goodnight, Gia.”
I step into my room, closing my door, watching Max through the crack until it fully closes.
The next morning,I find Max standing at the kitchen counter, measuring coffee grounds as Dario and Daniella sit at the island chattering about pancakes.
The familiar morning rhythm settles over them as Max presses the button to brew the coffee and then guides little hands through measuring flour and cracking eggs.
I enter wanting to join the lovely scene. "Morning.”
Max gives me a brief glance. "Coffee's ready.”
We reach the coffee maker at the same time. “Just so you know, I’m not acting like last night didn’t happen,” he says in a low whisper so the kids don’t hear.
I feel heat come to my cheeks.
He pours the coffee into a mug. “But it’s probably not a good idea to bend you over the counter and fuck you in front of the kids.”
“Probably not,” I agree.
His gaze drops to my lips. “Just know that I’m thinking about kissing you right now.” He winks and turns back to the kids.
The pancakes made, we sit at the table to start the day. It feels so normal, so much like a family. I know I can’t get used to it, but I decide to enjoy it while I can.
"The landscaper will be here at ten," Max says, checking his watch. "Whatever playground equipment the kids want, tell him to make it happen."
"Max, we talked about this. It's too much?—”
"It's not up for discussion." His voice is gentle but firm. "The kids need somewhere safe to play. Money isn't an issue."
"But we won't be here that long?—”
"Other kids can enjoy it after you leave. Maria has grandkids. Nic and his family might come out."
I suppose it’s his yard.
"Let them pick what they want. Swings, slides, climbing frames, whatever makes them happy."
"Can we get one of those twisty slides?" Dario asks, syrup dripping from his chin.
"Absolutely." Max ruffles his hair. "The bigger, the better."
I open my mouth to object, but Max silences me with a look. Instead, I wipe Dario’s mouth.
After breakfast, Max leaves for work, and I do the dishes while the kids play. As I finish loading the dishwasher, I’m once again contemplating telling Max about the kids. He’s so goodwith them, and they clearly adore him. And maybe if he knew the truth, he’d get over his hangups about our age, our roles, our relationships.
Whatever this is between us, it can’t go anywhere.His words from last night come back to me. He wants me, but not enough to risk Nic knowing. Not enough to get over his feeling that it’s wrong.
“Mrs. Cantore, I can do the dishes,” Maria interrupts my thoughts.
“Oh, I don’t mind. It gives me a minute to think.” I hear Daniella yelling at Dario. “Oh, now what?”
Maria laughs. “I’ll finish. You go be with your children.”
“Thank you.” When I reach the kids, I have to confiscate a toy and get them settled for their studies. When I look at the calendar to see what I’m supposed to teach them, I see that Thanksgiving is next week. I wonder if Max has anything planned. He hasn’t said anything.
At ten, the kids are distracted by the landscaper and the catalog of play equipment. If Dario had his way, Max’s backyard would become an amusement park.
Once the landscaper left, I tried to get the kids involved in an activity so I could work, but they couldn’t settle.